


Forever Could Be Severed

by veritas_st



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, dont hate me, ooops I did it again, serious character death, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 18:09:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4676321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veritas_st/pseuds/veritas_st
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So thanks to a post of Facebook and then mrstotten this horrible fic occurred. </p>
<p>"Pointless, he thinks as he scrolls through his phone, fingers slip sliding across the screen, leaving a trail of dark coloured marks he doesn’t want to think about right now.  So fucking stupid that after everything he has been through, the things he’s seen and survived, that this is how it ends."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forever Could Be Severed

His hands are shaking as he digs his phone from his pocket. The phone slips in his wet hands, the tremors so bad he drops it as soon as he gets it out, then nearly drops it again and curses. 

His head hurts and his hands shake, its fucking cold out tonight and his hands are shaking. 

_Pointless_ , he thinks as he scrolls through his phone, fingers slip sliding across the screen, leaving a trail of dark coloured marks he doesn’t want to think about right now. _So fucking stupid_ that after everything he has been through, the things he’s seen and survived, that _this is how it ends._

His first instinct is to call his dad, to get help and to hear his voice telling him it would be ok, but his fingers slip past to the number below. He can’t do that to him, he knows what is happening here and he can’t put his dad through that, but he needs to talk to someone, needs the voice of someone he loves to drown out the silence of the dark, cold alleyway, and if he can’t speak to his dad, then there is only one other voice he want to hear right now.

 

~*~

He knows the second the phone rings that it’s Stiles, feels it in his chest like a punch. He’s had a feeling all day like something was brewing, a tightness in his chest coupled with that restless feeling that tells him that something is wrong. Like the smell in the air just before a storm, the shortness of breath and the dull headache behind your eyes. He knew. He _knows._

~*~

Derek answers on the first ring, his voice coming loud and clear through the phones tinny speaker as Stiles grips it in his shaky slippery hand, his other hand is pressed to his stomach trying to stop the bleeding. 

“Hey you.” To the untrained ear Derek sounds normal, light and happy to hear from him but Stiles knows Derek and can hear the sharpness, the edge of worry under his breezy tone. 

“Hey, Der,” Stiles says, his voice shaking slightly. He coughs and winces and swallows past the lump that’s forming in his throat. “Just missed you.” He says and he hears Derek’s breath catch in his throat. 

~*~ 

“Just missed you.” Stiles says and Derek’s grip on his phone tightens. He feels the plastic crack beneath his fingers and doesn’t care. Stiles sounds like he is in pain and there is an undercurrent of fear in the tremor of his voice. Stiles is scared and afraid and alone and in pain and he is trying to hide it which makes the punch of worry tighten in his gut that much more. 

Derek switches to loudspeaker, surprised that his his hands are steady enough to allow him to scroll through his phone even as everything in his body is telling him to move, to go now, to find Stiles. But he knows that if he moves, he could lose the signal, that he could end up out of range, that one of a million things could happen that would break this connection he has, however slight to Stiles, and he knows he can’t let that happen. Instead he thumbs out a text to Scott. “Find Stiles …..now” 

“How you doing?” He asks stupidly, because he can’t think of anything else to say. The words _I love you more than you’ll ever know_ aren’t what Stiles needs to hear right now. Not this very second. 

~*~

 

“How you doing?” Derek asks and Stiles breathes out, closes his eyes and can almost see Derek, see him gripping the phone so hard the plastic cracks. It’s such a stupid question and Stiles feels hysteria bubbling up through from his pierced stomach. He knows he’s dying, he can feel it, the blood seeping through his fingers and the numbing pain spreading from his stomach to his hips and down his legs. He shifts. 

“Oh you know,” Stiles tries to laugh and ends up coughing instead. Wonders if the blood now on his screen came from his fingers or his mouth, is he there yet?

“Yeah…I know.” Derek says and there’s so much Stiles wants to say to him, _I love you, I’m sorry it took me so long, I want to spend the rest of my life arguing with you_. There’s so much that Derek says with those three words and Stiles feels tears prick at the corners of his eyes.

“I’ve had a bad day and I wanted to hear your voice.” Stiles finds himself saying and he hears Derek swallow. He knows that whatever else Derek is hearing right now, that he would have heard no spike in Stiles heartbeat at the words. That whatever else was happening, that whose words at that moment were nothing but the absolute truth.

~*~

“Well, you’re hearing it. Anything specific you wanted me to say?” Derek asks, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible. There’s something in Stiles’s voice which is telling him not to panic, for Stiles. Don’t fucking panic. All he wants to do is run to him. But the weakness in Stiles’s heartbeat, tinny over the phone, is telling Derek he won’t make it. 

“Remember when…” Stiles starts “Remember when we went down to the lake and you pushed me in with all my clothes on?” Stiles asks and Derek let out a breath of a laugh as the memories wash over him. 

“I hated you then, you Dick.” Derek hears the small uptick in Stiles heartbeat that reveals the lie.

“No, you didn’t,” Derek says, “you never hated me.” 

“No…you’re right…I didn’t.” 

And that’s the fucking point. Stiles never hated Derek and Derek never hated Stiles. Derek has always been drawn to Stiles and it took them both so fucking long to catch up. They could have had more time. Derek’s palms are sweating around the phone and all he wants is to hold Stiles, to touch him, see the small paths of dark winding up his own arms as Stiles sighs at the reduction of pain. Stiles coughs and Derek can hear the bubbling in his throat. 

~*~

_So stupid_ , Stiles thinks. That after Kanimas and the Dread Doctors and everything else they’ve been through, that it would come to this, that he would be left bleeding to die on some dirty street corner after a botched mugging because Stiles wouldn’t let go of his phone, the Bestiary and every single bit of information on the Pack stored on it. _Idiot._

He hears a howl in the distance and wonders if its Scott or just an animal. 

_Whatever_ , he thinks, _they’re not going to make it in time._

~*~

Derek’s the one that breaks first, can’t bear the pretence any longer when all he wants to do is panic down to the phone and tell Stiles he’s coming for him, that he won’t let Stiles die. He’ll fly there if he has to. But he tries, for Stiles to stay calm.

“Where are you Stiles? I’ll come and get you.” A hint of panic leeches into his voice and he knows Stiles hears it. He should be phoning 911, phoning the Sheriff, phoning someone. _God anyone_. “Scott’s coming.”

~*~

“He won’t make it.” Stiles says, his grip on the phone slipping, blood oozing through the fingers on his other hand. Not much longer now. 

“Don’t you say that, he’ll be there. And then I will. You’re going to be fine.” Derek scolds and Stiles hears him try to rein the panic back in. “You’re always fine. You annoying little shit.” Stiles huffs out a laugh again. 

“Do you know?” Stiles asks. 

~*~

“Do you know?” He asks Derek, and Derek knows. He’d known somewhere in the back of his head since probably before even Stiles did. He knows. 

“Yeah Stiles, I know. Do you?” It was their way of saying ‘I love you’, since Derek is bad with words where Stiles just talks. 

~*~ 

_“Do you know…” Derek trails off, his hips pressed to Stiles’s, his lips against Stiles’s neck, mouthing at his pulse. Stiles arches into him._

_“Hmmm?” Derek pulls back and looks Stiles right in the eyes, the words hanging in the minute space between them. “Oh.”_

_“Yeah...oh….a lot.”_

_“I know.”_

~*~

“I know.” Comes the faint reply and Derek’s phone buzzes. _Got his scent_ , reads the message from Scott and Derek breathes just a tiny bit easier. 

“Scott’s on his way Stiles you hang on ok? Hang on for me.” He swallows against the lump in his throat. _God I love you._

~*~

“Stay on the phone?” Stiles asks and Derek scoffs. 

“Always.” He replies. There’s still so much unsaid, so much Stiles could, should, wants to say but he can’t find the words, has never been very good with those types of words, despite how much he talks.

“Derek…”

“Stay with me, for once in your life listen to me and stay with me.” 

“Ok, Der.” Stiles feels his eyes prick with tears and Derek swallows again down the phone. 

~*~

“You’re lying,” Derek says and then because he may never get a chance to say this out loud, because no one else will come close to Stiles ever, “you’re all I ever wanted you know? And when I next see you I’ll tell you that to your face. Ok?” 

~*~

“Ok, I…” Stiles wants to cry, he wants to scream and shout and curse everybody in the entire world because how is this fair? How is dying on a street corner when the love of your life is miles away fair? How is having the best thing that’s ever happened to you last for such a short time fair? 

“Stiles?” Stiles squeezes his eyes shut. “Stiles?” 

“Still here…” The just is left hanging and they both hear it. 

“Stay with me.” 

“Ok, Sour Wolf.” 

~*~

_“Ok, Sour Wolf”_

Derek’s heart splinters at the words, his control finally breaking. _If only I was there,_ Derek thinks. 

_You’d what?_ Says the voice in his mind, _turn him?_ God, Stiles would make a magnificent werewolf but the crux of it is Derek’s not there. He’s never there, not when it matters, he’s failed so many times, failed so many people and now Stiles will be another name on the long list. _No, not Stiles._

“Stay with me,” he hears the phone clatter to the ground. A sharp crack echoing in his heart.

~*~ 

 

“Stay with me,” is the last thing he hears before darkness takes him.


End file.
